


December 1st - Card Game

by IMAgentMI



Series: RvB Ficlet Advent Calendar [1]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 17:16:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8722087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IMAgentMI/pseuds/IMAgentMI
Summary: Wash teaches York a new card game and everyone joins in.





	

Connie was curled up on the couch in the rec room with a ball of yarn settled into the curve of her body.  She was holding up a piece of her knitting and Carolina took it between her fingers, smiling at the softness and--

“York?”

“Mmm?”  York blinked.  “Sorry, run that by me again?”

Wash reached for the deck of cards between them, shuffled them with a satisfying ripping sound, then gestured with the pack in his hand.  “It’s simple.  You’ve played ‘War’ before?  This game is similar.  There are only like, two rules.  Or..maybe three?”  Wash’s voice trailed of as he appeared to count in his head.  “Yeah, three.”

“And what are the rules?”

“Well, first you deal out all the cards to the players.”  Wash saved time by simply splitting the deck in two, setting half in front of York and holding the rest face down in his hand.

“Is that a rule?”

“No, that’s just how you play.”

“So...just directions then?”

“Uh.  I guess.”

“How are directions different from rules?”  York bit back a smile as Wash grew more flustered.

“Look, forget about that.  It’s easy.  Just pay attention.”  Wash let all his breath in a huff.  “Maybe it’s simpler if we just do it.  I’ll explain as we go.”

“Explain the rules?  Or the directions?”

“Shut up and pick up your cards.”

York picked up his half of the deck, holding the stack in his hand the way that Wash did.  “Now what?”

“Now we take turns putting down one card at a time.”

“What did you say the name of this game is again?”

“What?  It doesn’t matter.”

“How can its name not matter?”

“I don’t really want to say it.”

“Why not?”

“It’s pretty...un-PC.”

“Oh. Really?”

“Yeah. Look, it doesn’t matter.  Let’s just play, okay?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll go first.” Wash flipped the top card of his deck face up onto the table - a seven of spades.  “Now you.”  York flipped a card of his own - ten of diamonds.

“Now what?”

“Nothing yet - we keep flipping cards.  I’ll explain once it happens.”

They sat quietly, taking turns to lay down cards, until York finally laid down the king of clubs.

“Okay, stop.”  Wash tapped the card with his finger.  “When someone lays down a face card, the person after them has a certain number of tries to lay down a face card of their own, or the first person gets to pick up the entire pile.”  Wash ticked off the options on his fingers.  “You get four tries for an ace, three for a king, two for a queen and one for a jack.  You want jacks - they give the other player the least number of chances to stay alive so you can win the pile.”

“And this is the first rule?”

“Yeah.”  Wash squirmed in his chair.  “Okay, maybe ‘rule’ wasn’t the best word, but one of the important parts of how you play.”

“Okay, gotcha.”

“Now because you laid down a king, I have three tries to play a face card of my own.”  Wash turned over three cards, one at a time.  “Nothing. You win and get to pick up the pile.”

“Oh hey!” North and South walked up to the table.  South’s eyes were lit up.  “Are you guys playing E--”

“I’m teaching York how to play a new game!”  Wash cut her off with a rigid, manic smile.

“Yeah, I can see that.  Looks like you’re playing Eg--” 

“I think he’s getting the hang of it!”  York swore he could see sweat popping out all over Wash’s forehead.

South looked increasingly confused.  “Are you trying to stop me from saying Egyptian?”

Wash’s rictus smile slid off his face.  “What?”

“We used to call it ‘Egyptian.’”

Wash’s face seemed to melt with relief.  “Really?  Okay.  I just showed him how y--”

“Except that it’s actually called ‘Egyptian Hand Screw’,” added North, helpfully.  York grinned at the way Wash dropped his face into his free hand.

“Oh c’mon Wash. That’s not so bad.  Lighten up a bit.”

“Not so bad,” Wash repeated, then lifted his head cautiously, as though afraid of something more to come.  “Can we get back to this please?”

“Have you shown him the slap thing yet?”

“Not yet.  We were just going over face cards.”

North and South turned to look at each other with matching wicked grins.  “Deal us in.”

Wash cut his deck, gave the top half to South, while York shared his with North.  The twins sat down at the table, and York felt a bit uneasy about the predatory looks they kept throwing his way.  “Okay, so here’s the second...rule,” Wash went on, “if a pair comes up, no matter if it’s going in turns or dealing out for a face card, first person to slap down on it wins the pile.  So two of anything, hit the deck.”  

“This does sound like a simple game.”

“Oh, it is.”  Wash shared a glance with the Dakotas and his mouth twitched.  “So, you want to give it a try?”

“Sure.”

It really was a simple game, and they picked up speed quickly.  Face cards popped up from time to time, and voices would rise the longer a chain would go on, finally erupting in cheers or groans when someone finally failed to produce one more face card to keep play alive.  

Then North played a jack, and as Wash played his card, York saw the ‘J’ before the card even touched the pile.  Freelancers have great reflexes - the ones who don’t never last (or live) very long - and York had even better reflexes than most.

Wash’s fingers had barely moved away before York’s hand was atop the pile.  His moment of victory was so fleeting that he didn’t even have time to grin.

North’s hand stung as it hit his, and Wash’s hit North’s, crushing both under him.  South’s hand came down a deliberate half beat later, with her full strength behind it, earning a yelp from Wash and a pained “Goddammit South!” from her twin.  All three removed their hands, Wash and North massaging theirs and glaring balefully at South, who smiled beatifically back.  But as soon as the other men picked up their decks again, York saw her put her hand under the table, surreptitiously scrubbing it against her leg to regain feeling in it again. He turned his gaze back to his own hand, still lying on the cards and turning slightly red as he watched.

“So...I won that, right?”

“Yep.”

York lifted his hand and a card stuck to his palm for a moment before falling back to the table..  “So why doesn’t it feel like it?”

That finally took the glower off Wash’s face, and he grinned as evilly as the twins.  “It’s all just part of the fun, York.”

“Oh?”  York’s voice was mild, but he made a show of rolling up his sleeves.  “Then let’s start enjoying ourselves, shall we?”

“I love this game.”  South had a misty, far away look in her eyes.  “We used to have a house rule that if you made the the other person cry, you won.”  North flicked her ear, and she started in surprise before aiming a slap toward the side of his head. He ducked, laughing. 

The game began in earnest, picking up speed.  Faces tightened in concentration, and silence was only broken by the scrape of won cards on wood.  Finally, there was a series of sharp, meaty sounds and a roar of voices that finally pulled Connie and Carolina away from the couch.

"If anyone on my team gets injured in a card game, I’m going to be pissed.”  She didn’t sound angry yet, but Carolina pointedly made eye contact with each person seated.  Meanwhile, Connie bent over the table.

“I know this game!  This is Egyptian Rat --”

_“ThatsgreatConnieifyouwantyoucanplaywithusgrabaseat._ ”  Two red spots were burning in Wash’s cheeks.

“Go on Connie...what was it you called it again?”  South leaned over the table, splitting her attention between Connie and Wash.

Connie was looking at Wash, bemused by his reaction and the warning shake of his head.  “Uh… we called it Egyptian Rat Slap.”  She appeared even more confused by Wash’s relieved look and the way South’s face fell.  “But everybody knows it’s actually called Egyptian Rat Fuck.”

“Ha!”  South’s face lit up as Wash buried his face in his hands again.  York grinned, but then caught sight of Carolina narrowing her eyes at him.  

“What are you looking at me like that for?  I didn’t do anything!  I didn’t even know how to play - Wash is the one trying to corrupt me with his filthy-named card games!”  There was a thump, and York turned to see Wash slumped on the table, banging his forehead over and over against the wood.

“You guys want to play?”  North gestured open-handed towards Connie and Carolina.  

“Sure!”  Connie left to find a chair, and North went with her.  York gathered up all the cards to deal them evenly and restart the game.  He had already dealt around the table once when he felt Carolina at his shoulder and paused.  

“You in for this too?”

“I think I’ll just watch for now.”  She was giving him a look that he couldn’t quite interpret, but at least she wasn’t glaring at him anymore, so he’d take it.  He finished dealing out the cards just as North and Connie returned.  Connie took a seat between North and Wash, and Carolina took the last chair, squeezing in between Wash and York..  

Play resumed, much faster than before, fueled by the same intensity and competitiveness that was usually on display on the sim floor.  Cheating became more flagrant, with elbowing and jostling of neighbors. People started to jump the gun at possible doubles, until the time North faked to slap and Connie and Wash fell for it.  South brought down the pain in generous portions and everyone became a lot more careful about making a play on the table after that.

Another double - York’s hand was already on its way down when he saw one beneath his.  There was a moment of guilty horror as he realized he was about to come crashing down on Carolina.  He closed his eyes  but when his palm hit, it struck only wood.  Relief was short lived - pain rained down in layers of hands, and he was the lone cherry at the bottom of a misery trifle. He opened his eyes to check the damage, and found Carolina calmly neatening out what appeared to be nearly half the cards in the deck.   


Her small smile widened when she met his eyes, and she mouthed “Rule three” before dropping her eyes again.  Next to her Wash said, “Oh yeah, I forgot to mention…”

York only half-heard Wash explaining how someone who had lost all their cards could slap back in and rejoin a game.  He was too busy watching Carolina watching him as he tried to rub some life back into his fingers.  Every relaxed, confident line of her body spoke volumes about why she was Number One.  His rueful grin was almost equally eloquent about how number two he felt right now.

“Hey.  Can I play?”

There was a sudden hush around the table, as though everyone held their breath all at once.  York turned in his chair to look up at Maine, standing quiet and patient as a mountain, completely unaffected by the lack of response.  York smiled as other reflexes kicked in.

“Of course, big guy!  Here, take my seat - I was just heading out…”

As York got to his feet, the rest of the room began to unfreeze.

“Um…”

“Actually…”

“Wash will teach you all the rules and the dirty words.  North is your strategy guy.  This is Connie’s favourite game from way back and  _ make sure _ you ask South about house rules.  Right South?  They’ll all love to play with you.”  

He was trying to give Carolina a way out, but she was the only one at the table smiling.  She patted the table next to her.  “Yeah, c’mon Maine, it’ll be fun.”

There was a sound like a whimper from the table as York walked out, but facing away, he couldn’t see who it was.  He stopped at the door and turned around.  “Anyone want some ice?  Tissues?  South, you?  No?”

“Uh…”

“Okay then, goodnight!”

York knew his teammates could hear him laughing all the way down the hall, which was fine, because he wanted them too.  Sometimes the best way to win the game is to play a different one entirely.  The laugh faded to a wince, and he stretched his reddened hands in front of him, feeling his heartbeat pulsing under his nails.  He sighed, switched directions.  

Ice probably would be a good idea after all.


End file.
